


The Weakness In Her Armor

by Jacklyn_Flynn



Series: Tumblr Related [4]
Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, Hurt and comfort, Pining, Sweet Zevran Arainai, Zevran being Zevran, fluffy stuff, kind of a little tiny bit of lemony goodness, lost lover, nursing a wound, physical and emotional, rare moment of vulnerability from zevran, what a good boyfriend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:55:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27528028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jacklyn_Flynn/pseuds/Jacklyn_Flynn
Summary: Farren is hurt after a fight and Zevran comforts her in any way that he can.
Relationships: Aeducan/Zevran Arainai, Female Aeducan/Zevran Arainai, Zevran Arainai/Female Warden, Zevran Arainai/Warden
Series: Tumblr Related [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1779646
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	The Weakness In Her Armor

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cartadwarfwithaheartofgold (manka)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/manka/gifts).



> I created this for cartadwarfwithaheartofgold on Tumblr as she won third prize in my 200 follower giveaway! She trusted me to use her OC, Farren Aeducan.

“Andraste’s aching ass, camp has never looked so good.” Farren was so tired from their trek back to camp that she had to concentrate to keep from stumbling. Or, perhaps she was exhausted from their fight in the forest. It didn’t seem like the waves of darkspawn would ever stop coming. They’d stopped at a creek to wash off the bulk of the gore, but she wanted nothing more than to lay down and forget about everything for a while. 

“Don’t you want dinner?” Alistair asked with exaggerated shock as she headed directly for her tent.

“Not everyone is as food driven as you,” Farren didn’t so much as glance back as she pushed past the flap, disappearing inside. She carefully peeled off her armor before twisting her hip to examine the angry red wound on her side. Using a piece of her now ruined shirt, she wiped away dried blood, wincing. The blade had found a weakness in her armor, but it had still done its job well, ensuring it was only superficial. Though it stung like a son of a-

“ _ Principessa _ !” The sharp Antivan accent hissed from behind her. Startled, she spun around, instinctively reaching out to punch the assassin in the chest. Not an instinct to hurt, a reaction to punish him for scaring her. 

Completely unphased, he lifted the edge of her shirt, ignoring her swatting hands. “Why would you hide such a thing?” 

“Thing? There’s no thing.” She argued, shaking her head. “It doesn’t even-”

Zevran pressed the wound gently, just enough to prove his point. She bit her lip, drawing in a sharp breath. “Does not what, Ren? Hurt?” He tsked again, bending to cup her cheek and whisper in her ear. “Allow me to tend to you,  _ Principessa _ .  _ Per favore _ ?” 

“Fine.” Farren grumbled. 

“ _ Delizioso _ ! Disrobe and relax.” His voice was gentle, but it was no less an order.

Stripping down to her smalls, Farren collapsed onto their pallet of furs and let out a heavy sigh. Zevran sat down beside her, urging her onto her opposite side. He tended to her as gently as he could, washing away the dried blood and applying a salve with featherlight touch. Sitting up when requested, she closed her eyes and simply enjoyed the closeness of his body as he wound the bandage around her waist. 

She would never admit it and never ask for it, but she wanted nothing more than for Zevran to wrap her up in his arms and hold her tight, shielding her from the world outside and her swirling thoughts inside. 

“What are you thinking about, beautiful Ren?” he whispered in her ear. 

“How incredibly far we still have to go. About her. If she’s thinking about me.” Farren’s voice was low, hoping to hide the warble of emotion. 

Zevran gripped her chin lightly, tilting her head until she looked up at him. He noticed the slightest quiver of her full lower lip. Sitting fully on the bed, he drew up his legs and crossed them in front of him. Strong arms encircled her, so different from the soft ones she longed for, but certainly no less welcome. Gingerly, he pulled her onto his lap and she made no sound of protest. 

“Rica is indeed thinking of you.” He assured her, nuzzling her neck softly and filling his lungs with the scent of his battle-hardened  _ dea _ . “Even if she is not consciously thinking of you. She will string about her neck the most delicate of aquamarine and see your eyes. Surrounded by gold she will only see your hair. When she wakes in the night, filled with peace and warm with love she will know that you think of her too.” 

“She thinks I’m dead.” Farren suppressed a sob.

Zevran squeezed her as a shudder of emotion swept through her. Her smaller form folded so nicely against him, allowing the Crow to envelope her in warmth. “Only for a time. When she sees you again, you will see it in her eyes that she never stopped thinking of you and never stopped believing in you.” He kissed the top of her head, whispering against her hair. “And I swear to you, that I will never allow you to be parted from your love again.” 

Farren shifted against him, curling into herself like a babe, as if she could disappear into him. “Loves,” she whispered. 

It was so quiet, he couldn’t quite hear her. “Say again,  _ Principessa _ ?”

She cleared her throat so that she could speak past the lump in it. “Loves. Parted from my  _ loves. _ ” Shifting, she looked up at him. “Getting Rica back doesn’t mean that I don’t need you anymore.” Reaching up, Farren cupped his cheek, thumb brushing back and forth over his tattoo. “I need you too, Zev.” 

He smiled, turning his head into her touch, kissing her palm. “I am overjoyed to hear this,  _ mi amore _ . As long as you wish for me to stay, I shall never leave your side. I promise this, Ren.” 

“Good,” Farren tucked her head under his chin. The assassin squeezed her tightly and they sat quietly for a few minutes. 

“Sweet Ren?” Zevran asked quietly. 

“Hmm?” She murmured in response, looking up at him again. 

“Do you think-I wonder-will your lovely Rica approve of me? Like me?” Farren didn’t think she had  _ ever  _ heard vulnerability from her Antivan. 

He was surprised by her laughter. “She will love you just as much as I do. Besides, I know all of the best ways to-” Farren hummed, considering her words, “-warm her up.” 

“Perhaps you should show me. I learn best through participation.” His hungry eyes glinted. “Though, we will have to be careful of your wound.” 

She turned in his lap, straddling his hips and sliding her arms around his neck. “If you’re a good student, I’ll forget all about it.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! You can find both me and Manka (CDw/AHOG) on Tumblr!   
> https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/cartadwarfwithaheartofgold  
> https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/jacklyn-flynn
> 
> If you feel so inclined, I would love to hear what you think! 
> 
> <3 Jacks


End file.
